I sometimes wonder if your soul mate isn’t that soft, smiling boy in your english class, or that blue eyed enigma who holds the door open and stares at you, oozing promises. I wonder if your soulmate can’t be the girl with once knobby knees who laughs over a scribbled on starbucks cup at 3 in the afternoon when you tell her about that boy in your english class and how he read keats in a voice that meant you just knew
i think that maybe you can let a person see so much of the inside of you that no romanticism or purple flowers in purple vases could ever come close to the way your spirit matches the bright pink color that bursts forth from your best friend’s chest when she talks about the thing that she loves more than anything, more than you can imagine.
I wonder why it is that, 300 miles away from the place where she is, lying in a too small bed and staring at a too bare ceiling, you can ache, not for romance or for home, but for the way you felt those times when it was just you and her and you were staring down the whole wide world and you felt like there was nothing you could ever need besides someone like this.
what if everything is wrong and, while we’re all looking for soulmates were missing the fact that theyre sitting right beside us when were crying our eyes out on a concrete floor and floating with us when our insides seem to balloon up like kites in midsummer.
truly truly i think everyones missing the point of soulmates which isnt to enchant your heart and bear you up on heart shaped clouds, but to peer into the cavern in your chest and stay there.
— i wrote this at 2:32 am with tears soaking my cheeks (via stardustheartbeats)